Christmas Caramels

Caramels (in my big kettle)

1 cup of pecan pieces roasted. ()300 degrees for 25 min. Cool. 

Spray the silicone candy molds with vegetable oil or if you don’t use molds - butter two 9x13 pans, and line with parchment paper and butter that too.  You wanna be ready to pour the caramel . Caramel recipe makes about 94 carmels.  After spraying the molds add some nuts to some of them or put some nuts on top of the buttered parchment in one of the pans. Leave the other one just buttered. In a HEAVY big pot ( I use my 12 qt because it's a heavy one,  but half that size would be fine if you have a heavy one) mix: 

6 Cups Heavy Whipping Cream 

4 Cups white sugar

2 2/3 brown sugar

1 1/3 cups of light corn syrup

 Stir constantly while bringing mixture to a boil,  to dissolve the sugar. Once the mixture comes to a boil put on low,  med heat (3 or 4 on my stove). Stop stirring, and put a candy thermometer on the pot, or use an instant thermometer. Takes about 25 minutes to reach 250 degrees, here in AZ but watch closely (times vary), and stir occasionally just so the bottom doesn’t burn. Once the mixture gets to 250 degrees remove from heat and add: 

2 Tablespoons vanilla

2 Tablespoons kosher salt

4 Tablespoons butter

Stir well, and I pour the caramel in a gravy boat to be able to do a neat job pouring the caramel into the molds. I leave some plain, some with the nuts and sprinkle some coarse kosher salt on the tops of some for salted carmels.  Let them sit at room temp several hours. Turn out of molds or cut in pieces. Find yourself a good Christmas movie, grab a pair of gloves and wrap, wrap, wrap in twist wrappers (they sell these on Amazon these days, 3.5x5).   These make nice gifts. 

A Friendship...Deleted

Have you ever had a friendship you thought would never, ever end but it did? Instant death too, I’m talking about.  Not the typical, “we drifted apart when she had children and I didn’t”. Not, “I moved” or “she moved”… nothing like that. I had a twenty year friendship that ended that way, twenty something years ago. She disappeared out of my life, and it’s a cold case file.  Out of the blue,  she just wouldn’t come to the phone, wouldn’t call me back, wouldn’t answer my cards and letters I sent asking,  and finally begging, her to tell me what was wrong?  

I have no enemies that I know of.  Oh, I have people who don’t like me for whatever reason,  I’m sure.  I don’t stay mad long,  and I try and work out disagreements that inevitably happen between people. If you absolutely can't work with someone you just have to let it go, because some people just like to bitch and fight. That's not me.  When they can’t be worked out, I can easily “agree to disagree” and respect their side of what you don’t see eye to eye on. Oh I am "set in my ways" like Mom would say and I choose to keep my own opinion without winning them over.  For me to be cut off from someone, so important to my everyday life, was much like a divorce, although maybe those of you who’ve had one of those, are thinking and rightfully so, “ya right”! But it really was like a stranger than life case you see on TV. You know where the person goes missing.  Someone you’d least expect to do that. They never get in contact with you. There’s no ending, no answers and no justice.

I grieved the loss of her like a divorce or death. I ask her family, my family, our mutual friends what should I do to fix what I didn’t know was broken?  I must have done something horrendous, but what, I ask myself?  Why don’t I get a chance to at least defend what I did… if I did something, said something, didn’t do something, or should have done something! Whatever it was I blamed myself, I obviously did something!  

 I comforted  her after she lost a baby, she comforted me when I had a miscarriage, we shared all our sons t-ball games, baseball games, proms, school programs, girls nights out, birthday parties. One of the nicest cards I’d ever gotten in my life I got from this her, with a whole page written about how much she depended on my friendship. I just threw it away, last time I was in Minot. It took me that many years to part with it.  

I went through all the stages of grief, and then anger. Anger, that she would do this to my kids too. Make them question what friends are, and drop out of their lives. I’d move forward in grief and then fall back to feeling sorry for myself.  Self-remorse, self-hatred that was always my mantra for everything wrong in my life.  Whatever I must have done or said haunted me.

If you are going through grief for any kind of loss, the stages of grief are:

 1-Denial-"this can't be happening to me", not accepting or even acknowledging the loss. (I rationalized something must be going on with her husband, he never did like me, the fat friend.)  

 2-Anger-"why me?" or feelings of wanting to fight back, or get even with spouse of divorce, for death, anger at the deceased, blaming them.

3-Bargaining-bargaining often takes place before the loss if it’s one you’re expecting, but can happen after the loss as well. Attempting to make deals with God to stop or change the loss. Begging, wishing, praying for them to stay come back.

4-Depression -overwhelming feelings of hopelessness, frustration, bitterness, self-pity, mourning loss of person as well as the hopes, dreams.

 5-Acceptance - there is a difference between resignation and acceptance. You have to accept the loss, not just try to bear it quietly. Realization that the person is gone.

I finally chalked it up to insanity. I reviewed everything I tried to do. I contacted her probably six times. I decided, I did all I can do. I finally cut the string and let the hot air she’d filled me with float away.  I turned my goal toward my own personal growth. Not going to say I don’t have a scar there on my tree trunk because I do, but I’m ok with it.  

Strange thing is this friend had a history of not talking to her family members for years at a time, but I never thought she’d do that to me! Isn’t that bizarre in hindsight that I didn’t think she’d do it to me? Don’t you have to do something? She has a sister she hasn’t spoken to for years.  Maybe you are thinking, what was I thinking, being friends with her in the first place? But she was a well-liked, respected person and has a lot of people duped into thinking she is sincere.

She would leave comments under my face book comments, because we know a lot of the same people.  I blocked her so I don’t even see her name. Then she contacted my kids to be Facebook friends.  Feels a little like having some screws turned into you, one crank at a time.

I have never let myself that close to any girlfriend again, nor do I want to. And I don't know if that's a good or a bad thing but I prefer my sisters and my kids company. Actually that was kind of the end of girlfriends for me.  I’m the jilted lover that stayed single ha.  I have some friends, but I keep myself an arm’s length away. I feel somewhat unchristian like saying I don’t want her back in my comfort zone, but I don’t. I don’t want an apology, I don’t want to see her name and I don’t want to hear about her. For years I was asked about her every time I ran into people.  If I unexpectedly bump into her sometime, I have no idea how I’ll feel or act. Like I said I like everyone… so it’s new territory for me not to just be friendly.

After twenty years it is not as painful as it once was.  I used to want an explanation, then an apology and even though I feel she owes me that… I don’t want it now.  I have higher standards for myself these days! I have been schooled for 17 seasons of Dr. Phil and listened he said, “when someone shows you what they are the first time, believe it”! I tell my kids that all the time.  I am taking the advice I’d give my kids if they were in this situation, which would be “stay away, you don’t need to be brought down by mean girls. I don’t either.

There are things that we don't want to happen but have to accept, things we don't want to know but have to learn, and people we can't live without but have to let go.  ~Author Unknown

Empty Success

    I had a great young life on the farm in ND. We grew up with lots of cats, a couple of collie dogs, and rode all kinds of horses. We were grain farmers and had horses on the PMU line, which was collecting pregnant mares urine for hormone pills. The first horses we learned to ride were a big black Belgian team, and their names were Tiny and Tony. They were gentle giants. Eventually they got sold (we were used to horses coming and going because our Dad was in the horse trading business). Then we each (Kathy and I) had Shetland ponies and they were sweet but they had their tricks to get us off and they used them!  When people brought their horses and left them to get bred, heck, we rode them too.

My sisters and I (on Clarke)

Cowboy Clarke

      One of the happiest days of my life though,  was when I got Cowboy Clarke. He was a registered Quarter Horse gelding. Even his name was cool.  Like I said, we grew up riding and horses came and went, but this horse was one in a million. Dad came to the house and told me to come to the barn. Sensing he had something he was excited about, it had to be good! I ran to the barn! Dad said, "you know who that is don't you'? Puzzled, I said, "No". He said, "Jim Zimmerman's horse Cowboy Clarke"! Now I knew! Jim used to compete with him, was older than me, and had quit horseshows.  Ray his Dad, and my Dad, were friends. Dad said, he was trading Ray one of the 2 year olds we had just bought in South Dakota (Prissy Toad) and some breeding fees for Clarke "IF YOU CAN HANDLE HIM"! He said exactly, " we will take him to the fair in a few days and if you can handle him he's yours"! A few days later, I was entered in the barrel racing and pole bending at the North Dakota State fair. He circled the judges timing steak and we broke the pattern in the barrels but I got 5th ( a pink ribbon) in the pole bending and I managed to stop him, so I guess that was good enough. I was eleven years old. I had my dream horse and my new best friend.

     I practiced with him at the farm the rest of that summer. The following year we hit all the horse shows in the Northwest Saddle Club Association circuit, which meant we traveled with a horse for Dad to show in Halter Classes, (and most of the time he got beat by the horse he traded the Zimmermans for my horse), my Cowboy Clarke and Sonny's Sharp Lady. I competed in the Jr. Division and Sonny in the Sr division. Dad would go over to the building where you paid entry fees to enter, and come back with me entered in a bunch of events I'd never even tried before! Like the Keyhole, the Ring Race, the Rescue Race, Barrels, Poles, Shoe Scrambles and anything else he thought I could do. I only wanted to do what I'd practiced, but he was the boss and I wanted to please him!

     I had a successful year though, and so did Sonny for that matter I think he was second runner up in the senior division. That fall, after horse show season was over, Dad was testing mares for pregnancy. One mare that was new, reared back and came forward- pining him against the manger in the stall. He died three weeks later from a lacerated liver that gangrene took over in. That was October 16, 1967. To say that it was a rough few years is an understatement. Mom, Kathy and I lived on the farm alone with 75 or so horses to care for. Sonny came over from where he lived, but there were times the roads were blown shut. ND in the winter, in the middle of the prairie, isn't for sissies.

    The next May, the next horse show season was ready to start, but there was an awards ceremony for the 1967 season first in Kenmare. Sonny and I went alone. I got a huge trophy and a silver belt buckle for All Around Jr. Horsemanship, for having the most accumulated points!  I also got first in barrels racing and pole bending! Driving home on the gravel road, I remember watching the grass wiz by on the side of the road, a firm grasp on my awards, knowing Dad would be proud, but feeling so empty and sad. Sonny was a quiet guy, and we didn't talk about feelings. None of us did. We just had empty, loud moments like this one, that screamed Dad really is dead....gone forever, not coming back. Another cold winter night after chores, we sat down at the table to have soup, Mom, Kathy and I. It was dark out and for some reason we all looked up at the door  at the same time and could read each others minds.  There was no Daddy coming in for supper and we all cried. But, we didn't talk, we ate our soup in silence, cleaned off the table and went to bed. That horse's neck was where I cried out my grief, shared my thoughts out loud and felt closest to my Dad. I took over his saddle and rode in it the from then on. I still have it in my bedroom. I picture him with his little short legs on his horse lots of times.

    I kept on riding in horse shows, until I was sixteen or so and Sonny lost interest. He had his own little girls and family. By then Kathy was riding in horse shows too.  Mom drove us to our last horse show in Powers Lake, ND,  with our two horses in a stock rack in the back of our Chevy pickup. It got dark before they got to the barrel racing   and my horse couldn't see the first barrel and either could I ( I needed glasses ) until it was too late.  We flew through the fence, people scattering, sparks flying! Neither the horse or I got hurt but I ripped my pants from waist band to waist band and that was bad enough! To top it off we had a flat tire on the way home and had to unload the horses, and stand in the ditch with them, while some good samaritan helped Mom change it. Mom cried and said, "I can't do this anymore, we have to stop the horse shows". And we did. I still rode in Blaisdell or somewhere close to home.

    I had some great friends through, those horse show days. Cheri Albertson and I wrote letters on off weeks and waited to see each other at all the horse shows. Sometimes she'd beat me, sometimes I'd beat her, but we didn't care. We ate dust all day and cold watermelon from somebody's cooler between events. Nobody drank alcohol, it was just a lot of family fun. We had chokecherry fights with the Vesey boys and the Nelson brothers. It was a great way to grow up.

I don't want to be all mellow dramatic,  but I write these mostly for my kids, and Easton and I found the article in a treasure box last night, It had yellowed and was pretty frail so I decided to scan it and write about this important time in my life.  My horse was the center of life for me,  and some of my best/saddest days of my life happened at the same time.

When Clarke was about 20 years old, and I had kids of my own, I sold him to a young girl about 13 years old who wanted to take him to horse shows and learn to ride. I remembered how i felt getting him and he was not getting the love and attention anymore from me, I lived 60 miles away. He had a good "old life" with her and she loved him like i did. Here's to Cowboy Clarke, best friend for life.

Brendon digging my saddle out of the rafters for me to restore.

before restoration

It Isn't Going To Be Easy

What does long marriage look like at the end of your life? Is it a movie version? You know, a male and a female hobbling along, hand in hand, stopping for a lil peck, and then gingerly sitting down a park bench, he holding the umbrella over her and watching the sunset? Or in reality is it more like watching all star wrestlering? They share a ring, one in each corner venturing out to exchange some harsh words (hopefully no punches), but then retreat and get patched up for the next one! For me, the scene around here is somewhere in between those two with some moments of each. 

I am a type A and move at a “hurry up, lets go pace”. Kerry is notorious around here for sitting at the table, until all of us are loaded in the car before he comes out last, and in the eleventh hour, pops the hood on the car to check the oil! My hair is starting to fry just thinking about it! Finally were off, almost late now. Once we get to our destination, I hop out and try to lock the doors, just as his first foot is landing on the pavement to get out. I used to stand and wait at the front of the car feeling bugged and not hiding that fact either. 

Kerry on the other hand is not exactly laid back, either. He likes to control little things, like if the little lock in the center of the door knob. In his world that little knob should be pointing to 12 o'clock, so you can see from a distance that the door is locked, without having to walk over to check. Also, all two way switches have to be in the proper off/on position. My thoughts on that are pretty simple. I don’t have time for that bs. If the door is locked that's good enough, I have bigger fish to fry. In a nut shell, we are both control freaks can you tell? 

So, what works for us here is we run parallel most of the time. He stays in his lane, and me in mine. If he wants those switches, he can make that happen. Same story, with the door lock. The oil thing has become a thing of the past, thank you God, because our car is newer and is fine from oil change to oil change these days. When we get to a restaurant, I still hop out, and his foot still is hitting the pavement but I leave him to lock it and I march in and get a table and he comes at his own pace, that way I’m not bugging him by standing there, hair obviously on fire, and he can take his time. I more than likely have a drink by the time he comes in. 

So we are somewhat like both of the opening scenarios- we enjoy watching the kids in the backyard, talking about them, the day, the upcoming week. Talk about what a nice job Ramon did etc.  Then again we might snap each others heads off, faster then eating a crawfish and then retreat like the wrestlers,  only to come back in a half hour like it never happened. Never mentioned again. By now we know nobody is going to do any major changing so might as well save your breath. 

The real security of our long marriage is, he knows I will bring him coffee every morning while he’s still in bed and I know if I am sick he will cover for me. By that I mean we can count on each other. Is it perfect? No. But I hope in the end our kids will see that it takes compromise, commitment and basically a determination that we ARE staying together because if we don’t one of us would be missing this precious time with the kids and grandkids and that’s the currency that’s important to both of us. 

There are ways around being very different people. Who knows the real person when you are 18 and 20? It's all about chemistry then, and we all change with life. One of my favorite things about Kerry is he has always allowed me to be me, and do what I want. And I am forever grateful he went to work on the railroad with its horrendous hours and we farmed besides, while I was Mom first, and did lots of other jobs that only ‘fit with being home with the kids. I believe that’s why we have adults that we are proud of today, because we invested more time than money in them and they know they are our number one priority.   

So, I encourage you not to compare your long marriage with anyone else’s. No two people are the same. If you look up “perfect long marriages” on google,  you won’t see Kerry and Pam Picek that’s for sure!  But there are lots of ways to love and support each other but I hope the kids will think of us sliding into home plate one day together, dirty, bruised, broke a few rules, but hey ...we made like we promised we would in 1973. (Now watch… divorce papers filed next week ha…then I’ll have a new topic won’t I?) 

Pam's Norwegian Lefse

I grew up making lefse. I had a Norwegian father and a German Mother. My German mother was always on a quest to find the perfect lefse recipe so every year she kept trying a different one which led to a lot of failures. But she kept going till she got it right for my Dad. She used to rice the potatoes which is a big tiring messy job. She and I made lefse for all my married life, together. Since she passed away,  I have been making mine the same way and trying to perfect it. Some people think the thinner the better but I like mine a little moister and thats the way my family likes it so this is my own recipe from all our failures. 

Ingredients:

10 lbs russet potatoes

1/2 cup of salted butter 

1 cup cream (more or less)

2 tbsp sugar

2 teas salt 

5 cups of flour + more to roll out.... used the next day! 

I start my lefse by cooking ten pounds of potatoes, in salted water in the crockpot overnight on low two nights before I plan to make lefse.  In the morning I mash the potatoes with my stand mixer in two batches using the above ingredients( so half of everything) They should be a little saltier that you would do your mashed potatoes. Then I dump the batches together in a big bowl and chill the mashed potatoes in the refrigerator that day and that next night.

On lefse day,  plug in your grill and turn it to high to heat. Lay out towels to cool the lefse on after  cooking them. I cover my round lefse board with either the cover or a flour sack dishtowel, masking taped tight to the board on the backside. I know fancy!  Then I measure 6 cups of chilled potatoes into the mixer bowl and add 2.5 cups of flour and mix together, just until mixed. See how it feels, it cant be real sticky but a little sticky is ok cuz you are going to use more flour when you roll. Then using a 1/4 measuring cup I make balls of dough and put them on a plate covered with a towel so as not to dry out. To roll out, I flour my rolling pin with all the little crevices ( I do this after almost every one I bake). Then I flour the towel or cover on the lefse board and kind or work it into the material. Next I plop a ball on the center of my rolling board and sprinkle it with little flour on top and bottom. Roll it out the thickness of a tortilla and as round as you can, about the size of a plate. Don't use any more flour than you have to as it makes it dry and tough. 

Bake until it has nice brown spots on it then and flip over to bake the other side. cool on a towel for a few min and then fold it up in quarters and move it to another set of towels you are cooling them in. This recipe makes about 30 rounds. After completely cooled place in a baggie and  refrigerate (they dont last long in the refrigerator before they mold so I freeze in quart baggies. Share with friends and family, which is the most fun part. It's a lot of work but quite the tradition in my life with my mother, kids and now with my grown kids. 

Pam's Chicken Tortilla Soup

3 Large chicken breasts
1 ldg can of diced tomatoes
1 can whole kernel corn (2 if you really like thicker soup)
3 cans of black beans or one large and one small
3 cloves of garlic
1 large bunch of chopped cilantro
I large onion
2 Tbsp chicken soup flavoring ( I like the Better Than Boullion brand)
1 can of green chilis
48 oz chicken broth
2 cans of fiesta nacho cheese soup
1 large can of mild red enchilada sauce
1 Teas of pepper
1 teas salt

I cook it in the crockpot on high about seven hours and then shred the chicken with a fork and put it back in the soup. Then I add, five or six american cheese slices before serving and a couple TBSP of butter.

I garnish mine with tortilla strips ( I buy them in a bag but you can make them with tortillas sliced and browned in a lil olive oil). Also for other garnishes you can add:

•  Sour Cream
•  Diced Avocado
•  Salsa Or Pico De Gallo
•  Grated Monterey Jack Cheese

If you like it spicier, use rotel instead of diced tomatoes, and a hotter enchilada sauce, or even use some red pepper.  

Grandma Ethel's Homemade Tomato Soup

28 oz can of peeled whole plum tomatoes
1/2 teas baking soda
3 cups whole milk
1/2 cup cream
1/2 teas salt ( this is to your liking too)
coarse black pepper to taste
2 tbsp butter


Open the can of tomatoes and puree leaving large chunks or no chunks of tomato whatever your liking is. Pour the tomatoes into the saucepan and add the baking powder stirring to mix. This looks a little frothy, and helps the milk from not curdling from the acid in the tomatoes. Turn on med heat and add the milk, cream, salt and pepper. (remember that pepper sinks to the bottom so don't just keep adding). Heat TO boiling but don't boil. Remove from stove and add butter to top of the soup while hot. Serve with crackers or better yet a grilled cheese sandwich.

* When Kathy and I were teenagers and we'd go shopping with Mom in Minot we would stop at Speedway, a restaurant on the way home and Mom and I would have tomato soup and Kathy would have macaroni salad. Kathy likes tomato too these days.

Pam's Sour Cream Raisin Pie

What’s your favorite pie? Pie came to America with the first English settlers. What kind of pie you grew up with depended largely on what are of the United States and where your ancestors came from. In the South pecan pies were popular with the many nut trees in the area.  Pennsylvania Dutch made molasses “shoofly” pies. Settlers in Florida, utilizing the plentiful local citrus, turned native limes into key lime pie. The Midwest, famous for its dairy farms, favored custard and cream pies. Massachusetts invented the beloved Boston Cream Pie, a hybrid pie-cake. This colorful variety of pies reflects the diverse tapestry of early American culture. If one wanted to, one could tell the story of our nation through pie. (http://toriavey.com/history-kitchen/2011/07/the-history-of-pie-in-america-2/).

My favorite pie has always been Sour Cream Raisin. Mom and I would buy a Sour Cream Raisin Pie at the bakery in Stanley and we would enjoy it for a week! Over the years my favorite thing to have at Schatz’s truck stop in Minot is Sour Cream Raisin pie. I have only made it a few times because guess who eats it all? Me. No one in my family thinks its as good as I do. I have messed around with the recipe and made notes until I think I have it like I like it, so I’m sharing it with you. I hope you like it. I’d love it if you have a favorite to say what it is and share the recipe! 

                      Pam’s Sour Cream Raisin Pie

Ingredients

    Filling

      1 1/2 cups dairy sour cream

              1/2 cup whipping cream

      1 cup sugar

              pinch of salt

              Couple shakes of nutmeg

      3 tablespoons all-purpose flour

      3 egg yolks

      1 1/3 cup raisins (plumped)

    Meringue

              4 egg whites (notice:you need one more egg white than you           need egg yolks)

      1/2 teaspoon cream of tartar

      1/2 cup sugar

      1 teas vanilla

      1 baked 9-inch pie shell

              1.5 tbsp cinnamon and sugar mixture

Directions:

1.    Separate three eggs in bowls. Yokes in one, whites in one, add one more white to the bowl of whites making it four egg whites. Let them sit to become room temp. Next, pour boiling water to cover the 1 1/3 cups of raisins in a bowl and let that sit while preparing the filling mix.

        2.   For the pie filling, in a heavy medium saucepan stir together the sour cream, the heavy cream, 1cup sugar, flour, the 3 egg YOLKS, and the drained raisins. Cook, stirring constantly, over medium heat until thickened and bubbly. 

3.   For meringue, place the egg whites in the mixer and beat till looks foamy. Then add the cream of tartar. Beat with an electric mixer on high speed until soft peaks form (tips curl). Gradually add 1/2 cup sugar, 1 tablespoon at a time, beating on high speed about 4 minutes more or until mixture forms stiff glossy peaks (tips stand straight). Add vanilla(clear if you have it so meringue stays nice and white). Mix just enough to mix in.

4.   Pour warm filling into baked pie shell. Spread meringue over filling. Bake in a 350 degree F oven for 15 minutes or until the meringue is lightly browned. Remove and sprinkle with cinnamon/sugar mixture. cool on a wire rack for 1 hour. Chill 3 to 6 hours before serving; cover for longer storage.

nutrition facts

(Old-Fashioned Sour Cream/Raisin Pie)

Servings Per Recipe 8, chol. (mg) 101, sat. fat (g) 9, vit. C (mg) 1, carb. (g) 87, Fat, total (g) 21, calcium (mg) 81, cal. (kcal) 545, pro. (g) 7, vit. A (IU) 486, iron (mg) 2, fiber (g) 1, sodium (mg) 125

Rock, Paper, Scissors

                  
                 It’s the first day of school. For many, it brings up a whole cauldron of feelings all mixed together, bubbling away, with scary, sad thoughts permeating our wellbeing. I’m not talking about just the nervous kids either, but many parents as well. 

                 I remember standing in the dining room window, tears streaming down my face,  watching Brendon walk to school with the Erickson kids like it was yesterday, back in Berthold, some 35 years ago now. I felt like I missed my last chance at something I couldn't get back, but couldn't put my finger on what. I told myself he’s ready and on to new great things, playing with friends etc… but without me (sniff). Ok stop Pam, that’s selfish! So I moved on to guilt. Guilt that I shouldn't have gotten mad at him as many times as I did. I should snuggled him more, and whatever else I could beat myself up about…To say I was overwrought was an understatement. It’s scary to think you aren't the only one now, that’s now going to be molding your child. You hope and pray other kids will be nice and include them. You're slapped in the face with the realization that they need you a little less with every passing year. For someone who sunk my whole identity into parenting, it was really rough. 

I’m thinking today of my teacher daughter, Shelbey, driving her 2 month old, and her 2 year old, to day care - hoping the caretakers are trustworthy and responsible in spite of all the scary stories we hear these days. She knows nobody could love these kids like she does, and longs  to stay home with them. To top it off, childcare is costing her 1700. a month. The thought of staying home with them is cut short when reality kicks in, because she knows she has to work to take care of them. She loves teaching music, so that helps her push past her sadness and  look forward to the day the boys can go to school with her.  She must put on a brave happy face, keep Briar fired up about playing with friends, say goodbye with a smile on her face, kiss Asher goodbye and forge on to school, breast pump in hand.

              For all the parents taking their first day of school pictures, this day puts last year, one more year further in the rear view mirror, and looking at their growth is bittersweet. In black and white we can see how fast they grow and change, and how fast the years are flying by! Looking forward to new teachers and new experiences but theres still a little fear of the unknown, mixed with the knowledge that life is now officially on fast forward for one more year. 

              Some hind sight suggestions I have are: first of all, try not to over think it like I did. Always try to look at the positive, knowing that life is moving as God intended. Children were given to us to nuture and guide to adulthood. Stay positive and look to the positive.  Secondly, make a plan to help out at school where you can and be involved. Your kids will remember you being involved and supportive of their teacher. Teachers need more support these days than ever. The key word there is support…if you are there to fault find, save it. Being a teacher is no easy task. Be helpful. On the other hand stand up for your child when you have to (they remember that too). Third, be sure you document the year. Just a week or so ago, Brendon, my son who trudged off to school 35 years ago, and his wife had the best time looking through all the stuff I kept and documented… cute stories, pictures and clippings. It takes time but it’s totally worth it. Even if its just an accordion pleated box, save some things and jot down some funny stories. Fourth, get ready to hear some new things about your child, as they are molded into school life. Like the old saying take it in, wheat and chaff together, and take what can make your child better and blow the chaff away. 

              So lots of special prayers today for students, parents and teachers as they start a new year. Lets not forget the parents of special needs students too,  who have so much to deal with as their child starts school. Hugs to all today!

Happy Mother's Day!

“The noblest calling in the world is that of mother. True motherhood is the most beautiful of all arts, the greatest of all professions. She who can paint a masterpiece or who can write a book that will influence millions deserves the plaudits and admiration of mankind; but she who rears successfully a family of healthy, beautiful sons and daughters whose immortal souls will be exerting an influence throughout the ages long after painting shall have faded, and books and statues shall have been destroyed, deserves the highest honor that man can give.”

– David O. McKay

Mother’s Day. It brings so many thoughts of so many different times in my life. When Grandma Bruhn,(my Mom’s Mom) was alive yet my Mom would go to see her towards the end of the week, so she could spend Mothers Day with us. Grandma had seven children so she always had people around. Grandma didn't go out much and fun wasn't in her vocabulary that I remember, so Mom always brought something she'd probably buy herself anyway like groceries or something frugal.  Then on  the Sunday of Mothers Day, we would have a picnic or something with Mom and she would do most of the cooking ( something you don't think about till you are her age yourself). 

When my kids were small and we were still in North Dakota Mom would take them shopping to buy something for me. Brendon always picked out jewelry. When he was in third grade I watched him in the mall with his little friend. He was in Riddles, a fine jewelry store with his little friend in the same grade. Pretty soon he came out looking for me and I was sitting under the clock, visiting with a friend and keeping an eye on him, which he hadn’t realized. He excitedly ask me for a little bit of money to add to his, but what he wanted it for was top secret! I gave it to him and he ran off, and soon proudly came back with a package. He didn't give it to me, just smiled like a cat who swallowed a canary. I didn't ask what he had, because he looked like he’d love to tell me, with a little coaxing. On Mothers day, he proudly handed me a little spring loaded box, with a pair of black tiger eye posts. I still have them, and look at them often. They are special, but so is the vision of him in the jewelry store, that I cherish. Another of my favorite gifts from Brendon,  is this little guardian angel pin and note Brendon left me, and he was probably a freshman in high school or there about. He bought me a stereo once with his busboy job when he was a sophomore in high school too which I could hardly accept but meant the world to me,

  

Shelbey always wanted to go to Home of Economy and buy a piece of sparkling crystal under those special lights that could make a coke bottle look good! She always knew what she wanted, and Mom took her which was a special memory for them, to shop for me. My favorite gift from her was memory jar she made and had the other kids too put in memories. I’ll share one of them with you that she wrote. I just pulled a random one, and thought it was funny. 

When Sydney got a job as a teenager she bought me my first Brighton’s set of jewelry. She knew I loved it and only had a piece or two because as a parent you always have too many things the kids need to buy much for yourself and thats kind of something I gave up to stay home with the kids and do odd jobs over the years. I lived by the poem 100 Years From Now. It goes:

One Hundred Years From Now

One hundred years from now

It won't matter

What kind of car I drove

What kind of house I lived in

How much money I had in the bank

Nor what my cloths looked like

BUT

The world may be a little better

Because, I was important

In the life of a child. 

Therefore I took that literally and I drove and old car, and we didn't own any name brand clothes or any thing that cost much. Garage sales were my fun.  When I opened that first gift from Sydney I had such mixed feelings of accepting something that was 100+ dollars from a teenager. Since then I have gotten so many pieces from her, and now she calls Kerry and says, “Dad I'm getting the necklace from me, and the earrings from Easton so you can get the bracelet”, and he does! Cha ching…score for me! My favorite gift from her is a little book she made me. Sydney keeps her feelings close to her heart, so for her to finish something like this book, was really special. 

So many Mother’s Days have flown by! One day you’re a young Mom and the next your a Grandma it seems! I say to all the young Moms, enjoy every day as a Mother, at the stage you are in. As a Grandma, enjoy every day and remember how blessed we are to be here and in the kids lives. Some people never get there. 

Thank you to my kids for sharing their lives with me on a daily basis. I know how blessed I am!  I am forever grateful for the life God blessed me with, then and now, because life is a  winding journey with many ups and downs and twists and turns! Enjoy them all! Happy Mothers Day!

Christmas B -I-N-G-O

Two things I inherited from my Grandma Rose Bruhn. One was an old wooden bingo set, and the other, her trundle sewing machine. After some thought, I decided the sewing machine that faithfully sewed many, many quilts, really should be with the master quilter in our family, Patty Bruhn Hatvick. Horse trader by nature, when I gave it to her and she ask what she could give or do for me in return,  I ask her to make some Easter placemats out of one of Mom's old square dance dresses, and some of her favorite clothes. Mom always wore pastels, so Easter was a perfect fit, and a perfect trade, and they're beautiful! Thank you Patty!

My bingo set was all complete, except one number that was written in in pencil, and in Grandmas neat small handwriting. We used that set to start playing bingo with the kids on Christmas day, way back when. With that old set, and using dry beans or cereal( that somehow disappeared as we went) for markers, you would put all the wooden coins in a cardboard shaker box, and shake out one at a time. I have really fond memories of the Moore kids playing game after game of bingo, around the table in Minot for little toy prizes, like hot wheels or other little dollar store goodies. All to soon, the kids grew up and our bingo days with them ended. We moved here to Phoenix,  and after a few stints of Rock Band... we decided to dissolve the band, pack it up and go back to bingo.  I got the idea, why don't I spend 100.00 on gift cards that would help alleviate some of the pain of spending after Christmas when they could use them most, and a new tradition began.

Grandmas old bingo set with the cardboard shaker box, started getting pretty tattered and torn, so I was pretty ecstatic when I found a new set, complete with a metal roller cage at the Goodwill store, a few years back. I even bought some resin and a piece of wood and with a drill made little grooves in the resin for my called balls to sit in,  and had a nice functioning, "high tech" bingo caller board!

Time marches on however, and guess what? Last year Brendon found an app that does the calling for me,  so now we can put the phone in the center of the table and it calls and we play! Technology putting another human out of a job I guess, but I'm not chasing loose balls under the table every few rolls of the cage, so I'm good with it!

A lot of things have changed, but one thing that hasn't at our house is, gathering around the table to play bingo on Christmas Day. We still laugh and talk, shush each other, ask if B6 has been called for the third time, complain about sleepers, and get excited when we finally Bingo and get a turn to shuffle through the gift cards! It's fun to pick the one we need or want the most. For the grand finale we play for a 20.00 gift card.  This is maybe to...a gas station, a grocery store,  or somewhere everyone goes.  Moral to this story - it's not always the big things we do, but the small,  that make Christmas merry and bright.

Hooked On Hallmark

Shelbey, Mom and I always participated in our annual day of after Christmas shopping when Shelbey was small. It was such a good way to unwind from the Christmas holiday, stock up on bulbs and lights for the next year, and haul home enough wrapping paper for the next three years ( we did that every year)!  In 1987 I  bought my first Hallmark ornament, the little chimney sweep. I always thought Hallmark ornaments were cute but wow, $9.00 or so, was a crazy price for me back then when I had so many gifts to buy. Half price after Christmas however, was just enough to tip the scales to buy it. That was the beginning…the next year instead of one I bought two etc. There were two shops in the same mall that sold Hallmark ornaments. I decided we'd be more effient in our hunt if I sent Shelbey in one shop  and I’d go to the other. I instructed her to just pick out the ones that you like,  and then when I get back we’ll decide on what to buy so we didn't buy doubles. I’d buy mine and hurry down to the other shop to find her usually empty handed or with one maybe, clutched in her fist shoved back against the wall, by more aggressive shoppers. 

Fast forward a few years, and now Sydney was joining our after Christmas shopping and I’d send the girls to the one store and I’d go to the other. THEN when I came back it was a different scene! Sydney has as many as she could hold, diving in and out of shoppers,  and trying to convince Shelbey to do the same. That’s the difference between my daughters in a nut shell still today. Both have qualities I love, but they are very different. We continued to buy half price ornaments for many years and I have quite a collection now. I never collected for value, or in series, or to make money,  or any of that, it was all for love of what I wanted on my tree personally. 

These days I buy only a couple usually before Christmas with a coupon and sometimes for gifts for the kids. Easton had a ball today looking at all the different ornaments from over the years and I had a ball sharing them with him. Let me share some pictures of my favorites. You know the ones on the front of the tree every year. Do you do that? Put your least favorite on the back?  Anyway, thats my Hallmark addiction. 

My first one, Chimney Sweep 1987

My Mom one...

Easton's favorite, he plays the drums 

Briars favorite, plays
Holiday Road.

Another favorite

Cute little tea drinkers